


Gathered Contrasts

by tielan



Series: Meeting Halfway [14]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, F/M, Food Sex, Love, Porn Battle, Sex, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-06 00:24:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve wants to draw her like this –  half-dressed, working, eating – intimate and aloof, professional and sensual, focused and casual, exquisitely beautiful and utterly businesslike – all the contrasts of Maria Hill gathered into a single pose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gathered Contrasts

**Author's Note:**

> For the Porn Battle XIV, which I completely failed to do anything for at the time when it was running. Prompts _lick, food, collar, undress_.
> 
> Also Day 13 of the OTP Challenge - _Eating ice-cream_.
> 
> Next one will be fun. It's _Genderswapped_...

Steve’s fairly sure Maria doesn’t have any idea how much like a pin-up girl she looks when she glances back over her shoulder as he brings the ice-cream in.

She has the weekend entirely off-duty, the world hasn’t required saving yet, they’ve just spent the better part of the morning in bed making love, and she brought ice-cream back from DC. Fancy ice-cream that’s ridiculously expensive, and has unspeakably long and elaborate names like ‘Valrhona Chocolate Amargo’ and ‘Seville Orange Coriander Whiskey’.

Ice-cream that’s melting in the bowls Steve is carrying, because he’s staring.

When he left, Maria was naked and heading for the bathroom. Now, she’s put on a pair of panties and one of his shirts – she seems to like that combination, and Steve isn’t arguing – and is lying diagonally across the bed, propped up on her elbows and reading—

“Is that work?”

“Just a report,” she defends as she rolls onto her side. “I have to read it through—” Abruptly, she realises that his attention is no longer on the tablet or the fact that she’s doing work during their time together, as the shirt edges gape obligingly. She doesn’t move to close the gap, but she does tilt her head. “Steve!”

“Just admiring the view.”

“And letting the ice-cream melt.” Maria gestures imperiously for her bowl.

Steve leans over the bed and plants the bowl beside the tablet, nudging the shirt collar aside and kissing her shoulder as she rolls back down onto her stomach. She tastes faintly salty from their earlier exertions, and ripe with his scent on her skin thanks to the shirt. It’s a good combination.

Steve feels his body stir, but only lets himself indulge in a quick nibble – just enough to make her shiver and toss her head.

“I didn’t bring the ice-cream all the way back from DC to melt in the bowl, you know.”

“I know.” But Steve tugs the shirt more fully off her shoulder and kisses the bared skin while she eyes him, suspiciously. Then he lies back on one elbow to eat his own bowl of ice-cream – and, not so incidentally, watch her read her report.

She’s not a woman who lends herself to being noticed. Oh, people see her, but they see the soldier or the agent; they don’t notice the woman.

They don’t see the way her lashes curtain her gaze as she studies the report, or the way her hand poises with the spoon in mid-air over the bowl as she reads something which makes her lips purse. The arch of her neck melds into the sweep of her shoulder, and although the line of her body is lost under his shirt, it’s hinted at in the dip of her waist and the rise of her bottom before the shirt hem gives way to the the lovely, long line of her legs – one long, bare foot waving idly in the air as she reads.

Steve wants to draw her like this – half-dressed, working, eating – intimate and aloof, professional and sensual, focused and casual, exquisitely beautiful and utterly businesslike – all the contrasts of Maria Hill gathered into a single pose.

His spoon scrapes the bottom of the bowl, rather to his surprise, and Maria looks up.

“Someone’s hungry.”

Steve puts the bowl over on the bedside table before easing himself down beside her and rubbing his cheek and the light stubble there against the bare side of her throat. “Maybe you wore me out this morning.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Maria scoffs as she spoons up another scoop of ice-cream, then gasps as he jostles her hand so the spoon goes to his mouth. “Greedy,” she accuses as she pulls away. A cold droplet of white falls to land on the warm skin of her shoulder, and Steve swallows his stolen mouthful of ice-cream and licks the droplet up.

Sweet and creamy – Thai Coconut Milk is the flavour - and the skin underneath it is smooth and warm with just the faintest trace of salt...

Yes, Steve’s hungry. And yes, he’s greedy. Maria has always doled herself out in small portions, and to have her here, all to himself, relaxed and beautiful, is a rare pleasure. And one that he intends to enjoy.

And he’d like her to enjoy it, too.

So he kisses his way up to her earlobe and tugs at the collar of the shirt. “Off.”

“I’m eating—Steve!” She growls as he hijacks another spoon of ice-cream.

“Let me take the shirt off and you’ll get to eat the rest.”

The look she gives him is pure Lieutenant Hill; sharp, disbelieving, and just a little bit scornful. But she props herself up on first one elbow, then the other as he draws the sleeves off and tosses the shirt aside.

She’s beautiful. Long and lovely – although thinner than he likes. She says it’s just a good metabolism and Steve can believe it – he’s seen her eat. But it’s the drive inside her that attracts him – that need to do more, be more, be better, do best. She burns like a flame, and he recognises enough of that fire in himself to know that like calls to like.

He trails his fingers down her spine because he likes the line of it – and because it makes her shiver. She catches her breath, and Steve watches the subtle writhe of her body and feels his cock pulse. His mouth brushes her nape as his fingers stroke over the curve of her bottom and he eases his fingers along the waistband of her lace panties.

“Yes,” Maria murmurs, the spoon resting against her bottom lip. And Steve lets his fingers slide down, between her thighs, and then thrusts hard. “Oh!” The spoon clatters into the bowl as her body arches up. “Yes!”

She’s wet and slippery and deep beneath the lace, and Steve presses his thumb inside her as his fingers find her clit. His cock is hard and his balls are tight in his boxers, but they’ll get to that later, he promises himself. Right now, he has her literally in hand, with the unsteady pulse of her throat against his lips, and a rather nice view of her breasts straight down her front. He works her, a little roughly because that’s how she likes it, and listens to her gasping pants and the scrape of her nails against the coverlet.

He plans to work her like this until she comes before rolling her over and taking his sweet time in her while she bucks beneath him.

The clink of her abandoned ice-cream bowl gives him other ideas.

“Why are you stopping?”

“Sit.” He lands a kiss behind her ear before getting up. “Stay.”

“Might I remind you that I bite?”

Steve grins as he grabs the discarded ice-cream bowl and eases himself so his knees are either side of her hips. “I wouldn’t forget it.”

Maria huffs as he pushes her hair to the side, but doesn’t protest or push him away, although she does give him a long, considering look. Then he drips the melted dregs of ice-cream down the hollow of her spine. She yowls in protest, but his hand on her nape keeps her in place.

“Steve, that’s _cold_!”

But her protest melds into a moan as Steve bends down and laps at the melted ice-cream on her skin. He works his way up her spine and grins at the breathless little pants that accompany each swipe of his tongue.

When he reaches Maria’s throat, her head is turned, her mouth open, and the kiss is hard and urgent – a tangle of tongues. Steve’s hand finds its way back into her panties – down the front this time – and he strokes her, slick and urgent, and she spreads her legs a little wider and grinds back against his groin. There’s not much friction – the boxers are silky – but his straining cock rubs against her butt and at this moment he doesn’t need that much—

The pressure does him in, bright lightning, like the fire of the serum exploding in his veins but lighter, without the pain. But he keeps the pressure on Maria as she laughs. “Someone’s on a hair-trigger.”

Steve scrapes his teeth against her cheek. “And someone’s headed for a slow burn.”

Then he traps her between his index and middle fingers and tugs. She cries out, her nails dragging at the coverlet. And he uses every trick he knows to prolong her orgasm, his senses aflame in the wake of his release, barely able to breathe, but wanting to see her pleasured and replete. And Maria lets him do this for her, lets him trap her between his hand and his body, lets him love her, lifts her face to rub her cheek against his as the final throes of climax take her.

When he slows and stops, her head drops down for a moment, hanging, as though holding it up is too much effort. And Steve rubs his cheek against her shoulder and eases himself off to one side so he doesn’t crush her – but not letting her go, not yet.

Sex with Maria has always been more than getting her there – it’s getting her to relax, to let go – to trust him. And he likes the aftermath, lying beside her, skin to skin, the sound of their breathing filling the room.

“That was good ice-cream,” he manages when his blood stops pounding in his ears.

Maria begins to laugh. Steve grins, then stills as she reaches out and brushes back his hair – an easy, tender gesture that she hasn’t made in— Well, since before Vegas.

“It was very good ice-cream,” she says, still smiling. “Only—”

“What?”

Her eyes gleam. “Next time, I get to lick it off you.”

The breath goes out of him in a rush, and his heart almost hurts in his chest before it starts beating again.

“I guess I can do that.”


End file.
